


Noct Gar

by MercurialInK



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AU, Fishing, I am so sorry, If "what if everyone just hecked off and went fishing" counts as an AU, Lots of Fishing, M/M, Multi, and banter, sometimes danger, thats it thats the fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23307313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercurialInK/pseuds/MercurialInK
Summary: “Hi, I’m Noct Gar, and we’re gonna catch some cool ass fish today.”“Dude, could you like, level up the drama? Just a little? This is an epic battle between MAN and FISH! Give me some of that to work with! That’s what the viewers want to see!”“Fine. My name is Noct Gar; angler, biologist, and freshwater detective. I travel Eos to uncover the river monsters behind mysterious and bloody deaths. For every case I solve, another floats to the surface.”“Brilliant. Cut and straight to print, we’re gonna be raking in the gil!”Guys idk, this is basically a river monsters AU where Noct is Jeremey Wade but a broody youtube personality, Prompto is the camera crew but peppy, Gladio is the reluctant sound guy who keeps being struck by lighting, and Ignis is literally just begging everyone to stop looking for trouble before it comes and eats them. AKA: SideQuest, The Story
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amicitia/Noctis Lucis Caelum, Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum, Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia, Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 9
Kudos: 32





	Noct Gar

“Noct, the line is wearing thin.”

“I’m aware.”

“Man isn’t there anything big here?”

Noctis doesn’t think Prompto’s bored musing really needs a response. Instead, he glares out at the sunset over Galdin. He’s all too aware of Prompto, camera in hand, running behind him. 

Tension hits the line, and at once, Noctis is focused and on his feet, annoyance forgotten. His eyes are fixed where the line sinks into the water, waiting for the moment. He jerks the line up, hopefully sinking the hook, and grins as he feels the pressure of what has to be the massive grouper rumoured to be hiding in plain view in the waters of the Vannath Coast.

“That’s a fish!” Noctis yells. “We’ve got something here!”

Noctis is on his feet, his whole body braced to accommodate the strain on the line. “I think it’s a big one!”

Prompto shouts in exclamation when they first see the disturbance of fins in the water, and lets out a few shouts that are definitely going to need to be dealt with in post production as Noctis pulls the fish free of its watery home.

It’s the distinct striping of a Trevally. Again. It’s not even a particularly large one.

Noctis sighs.

“Dinner, perhaps?” Ignis suggests delicately. Noctis glances at the sun, almost sunk below the horizon line. If they hold out past sundown, the Trevally will be gone, but so will the Grouper. The ambush predators would have a much harder time seeing any bait Noctis set for them in the gentle waves. 

Might as well call it a day. The tales of a goliath in the shores of the well fished, well traveled vacation spot in Galdin are probably nothing more than rumors anyway.

“Yeah, sure,” he agrees. “Help me pack up?”

“So much for episode one,” Gladio mutters under his breath.

“Episode isn’t over yet Gladio,” Prompto sings out happily, and puts down his camera for the moment. “We have to build tension for the viewers! Nobody wants to see Noctics just go out and catch the fish right away. We’ve got plenty of time out here anyway.”

Noctis breathes a little easier without the lens boring into him and Prompto continues rattling on.

“Anything that easy to catch won’t be interesting to the viewers, and frankly would have already been caught. Galdin is like, fisherman central.”

“Whatever you say, blondie.”

…

Eventually, and well past the events at the end of this story, Gladio would be standing in his father’s study while Clarus Amicitia raged, pausing long enough to ask the heavily rhetorical question: 

“How the  _ hell _ did you let this happen?”

Gladio would unwisely snap back that Noctis had always been an incorrigible brat and if his father wanted to know where this all started, he need look no farther than the first step Noctis had taken as a toddler, because every step after that was doomed to bring only trouble to everyone around him (OK, so he was a little sore about the lightning, and felt unfairly persecuted by the notion that  _ anyone  _ could control the Prince, but he didn’t really mean it, most of it). 

The way Prompto would embellish it both during and well after the fact, the whole epic tale started the second Noctis laid eyes on the sea at Galdin. 

As far as Ignis, the most reliable of the available narrators, is concerned, everything really started with that fucking cat.

If the cat hadn’t been sitting there, meowing adorably, Noctis wouldn’t have been side tracked, and they might have had a chance of proceeding down to the docks of Galdin without further incident. 

But no, the cat  _ had  _ to meow, and so they  _ had  _ to go fish until they had caught a Trevally of sufficient quality to satiate it.

Noctis might be the only one who knew for sure what was going on inside his own head, but in this case, he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell anyone. And so, even to the most observant of bystanders, it goes something like this:

Noctis is walking down the Quay towards the dock, grumbling but accepting the hurry with which his advisors are rushing now that they were quite close to their destination. He hears a meow, and looks down.

“Hey there,” Noct says, and the cat whines plaintively.

“Astrals above,” Ignis whispers in irritation, pinching his forehead.

“I think he’s hungry,” Noctis says mournfully.

“I’m sure he gets plenty of scraps,” Ignis says. “He likely provides the same song and dance to all of the tourists who live in the area.”

Ignis’s hot take on the issue of feeding cats was rebutted by a plaintive meow from the deck. 

“We gotta feed it,” Noctis says with wide, innocent eyes. “Iggy, he’s STARVING!”

Ignis relents, and they go down to the beach where Noctis - so characteristically unobservant most of the time - has immediately spotted a well placed dock to set up at. 

“Anything interesting biting out there?” Noctis asks casually as he stocks up on a selection of new lures. The gruff salesperson at the beach shack grins and points to a sign nailed to the side of the building.

“Ye here about the Goliath Grouper?” he asks.

Noctis’ eyes flash towards the poster with interest.

“No, I haven’t,” he admits. “What about it?”

“About two weeks back, we had a fisherman out late on a rowboat, swears he hooked a Grouper so big it pulled him right out of the boat! His buddy had to jump in after him; if he hadn’t let go of the line, he wouldn’t have lived to tell about it.”

Ignis scoffs at what he’s clearly ready to dismiss as a old fisherman’s yarn. 

“Do fish even get that big?” Prompto asks. 

“Depends where you go,” the salesman said. He rubs his neck and gestures to the sparkling clear waters of the tourist resort. “Think you’d have to be mighty lucky to hook anything big with the waters picked clear here time and time over, but it sure would be a sight, wouldn’t it?”

“Sure would,” Noctis says. “If he didn’t just get caught on someone’s sunk boat, or a piece of the dock in a heavy tide.”

The fisherman laughs.

“Well, all the same, there’s a reward. If you can catch that mighty beast and bring it back - or bring me a picture from that fancy camera, I’d pay to see it. And so would the staff up at that fancy resort.”

Noctis thanks the man for the information, and struts out on the dock.

“We could use the funds,” Gladio says. “Crowns don’t spend far outside the Citadel.”

“We are not here on a pleasure cruise,” Ignis snaps. “We have been tasked with locating the Tombs of the old kings and assisting His Highness with acquiring their power for the Armiger. We are not  _ dilly dallying  _ here on the beach to try to catch a  _ fish _ !”

He sounds scandalized. He’s probably thinking about what will happen the first time he and Gladio are contacted by the Citadel to ask for a progress report, and he’s forced to explain that they have taken a tour off the main route to… find some prime fishing spots. Ignis can only imagine. 

As it was, they should have been heading north, not south - they have solid leads on a Tomb north of the three valleys, where the Sword of the Wise lays dormant with its first wielder. Gladio was the one who had suggested they start south, just to be sure that none of the Kings had been laid to rest on the craggy cliffs by the sea.

So far, they had done precious little searching. Ignis shudders to think what his daily log will look like at this rate.

(So far, it reads: 10:00AM, found a stray cat. 10:02, lost fight with the Prince about feeding the stray cat. 10:10, was lost in an absurd conversation over some random side quest when they needed to be  _ on the road _ .)

“Hey, it’s going to be ok,” Gladio says, gently shouldering into Ignis. “One little side trip, and then we get back on track. If we let him get it out of his system now, it will be easier to keep him on task later on.”

(It will not be easier to keep Noctis on task later down the road. In fact, it’s only going to get harder.

Anyway.)

“I bet catching something like that on camera would be incredible,” Prompto says brightly. “Depending on the footage, I might even be able to use it to apply for the Insomnia Academy of the Arts. There’s all sorts of complicated angles and tricks to catching action in motion, just like with sports photogs!”

“Hell yeah, Prompto,” Noctis says as he finishes stringing his line. The bait is tied up neatly, and he casts in a fluid motion. 

“Wait wait, hold on!” Prompto yelps, snapping a few quick shots hoping to capture the smooth movement of Noctis’ arm as the line vanishes into the sparkling water. “We never know when we might find something amazing!”

“I take it back,” Gladio rumbles, settling cross-legged on the dock. “Lets get the hell out of here.”

Ignis laughs.

In short order, they have a Trevally; the Trevally is returned to the Galdin resort to be properly turned into high quality catfood (Ignis sneaks a glance at the menu and takes notes for recipes despite his protestations that this will be a quick trip); Noctis has fed the cat and gained a new friend; Prompto has pouted about coming in second place to a cat; and Noctis is back to looking soulfully out over the ocean as the sun dips low onto the horizon.

“Whatcha thinking?” Prompto asks. Noctis turns.

“I’m thinking that if this fish exists, and it took a fisherman’s bait out in the water at night, now might be a good time to drop a line in the water.”

“Noctis,” Ignis warns.

“And to search off to the East and see if we can find any tunnels or cave ins that could be Royal Tombs?” Noctis suggests without even pretending that he thinks that is a likely outcome of their search.

“Not to mention additional fishing spots, I suppose,” Ignise says, and Noctis grins.

  
“Great suggestion Specs!”

Ignis sputters, and Noctis is off, with apparently Ignis’ permission. 

Noctis begins his search following the line of the ocean. Prompto follows, keeping a running commentary about “establishment shots” and “b roll footage.”

“You sure you need that fancy education?” Gladio teases Prompto. “Sounds like you already know what you’re talking about.”

Prompto yelps and turns an adorable shade of bright red. 

“Don’t tease Prompto,” Noctis says. “He does that well enough on his own.”

“You’re going to ruin my big break guys!” Prompto complains, laughing. “Can’t you see it? OCEAN MONSTERS, starring the Prince, obviously swearing up a storm as he reels in his fifteenth Trevally in a row-”

“Oscar worthy, I’d wager,” Ignis jokes.

“Man, what won’t people watch though?” Gladio wonders. “Prom’s got just as good a chance reeling em in with a fishing documentary as anything else. It’s all about the editing, right?”

“Right!” Prompto says eagerly. “I’ve got some new programs I’ve been dying to try out from the library at ICC.”

“Well, shoot away, I guess,” Noctis says, like it doesn’t matter to him either way. He’s calf deep in a tadpole, gently handling a Sea Star. Prompto has gone back to filming, with an expression of deep intent.

Ignis wonders, truly, if Prompto knows how special he is. That he’s the only Photographer in Eos that can capture Noctis on film without some kind of awful grimace. 

In fact, Ignis has made a note more than once of suggesting Prompto be given a royal position if only so that the population can see their Prince without his characteristic resting bitch face.

“I’ve been thinking,” Noctis says, straightening up. “If you wanted to make this a Thing, and actually post it, we should probably use an alias.”

“We’ll work on it,” Prompto promises, while Gladio snorts with laughter.

Ah yes, this is Loctis Naelem, with his loyal friends Aladio Gamicitia and Signis Ientia, just happening to look exactly like the Prince and his retainers, but absolutely no relation, they promise.

He laughs loud enough that Ignis glares at him, as though he was conspiring with the two hellions taking off in front of them.

“Don’t encourage them.”

“Of course not Iggy,” Gladio winks at the advisor. “Romantic spot, huh?”

  
“You cannot distract me.”

  
“I’m sure.”

“You cannot. I am duty bound to the Prince’s needs, and we must stay on schedule.”

“Sure,” Gladio says, and they both take off at brisk pace to catch up to Noctis, who has indeed found another promising spot. His line is already out, and Prompto is practically hopping up and down with excitement. 

“Here it is! Man versus nature, round one!”

One failed attempt later, Gladio is ribbing Noctis about mother nature kicking his ass.

Three failed attempts and the sun is dipping low. 

Ten failed casts and four Reef Trevallys later, Ignis is idly commenting on the status of the line, and Prompto is doing his level best to stay interested in continuing to film.

Another Trevally later, and Ignis is delicately suggesting that they wind down for the day. The sun has fully set, and unless Noctis intends to fish through the night - for which they are not particularly well equipped at the moment - they should settle down to make dinner and rest. Ignis drove the length of Eos from Hammerhead to Galdin today, and though romping about the beach has brought some life back to him, he is still stiff and eager for sleep. 

He also has about half an hour before Clarus Amicitia calls him to chew him out for negligently forgetting to call on their second night.

Noctis agrees reluctantly, with Prompto promising that this is only the beginning of their project. 

Ignis whips up a quick dinner back at the caravan. Once he has checked that the other three are busy challenging one another in Kings Knight, he puts his phone on speaker and dials.

“Ignis. You’re almost late.”   
  


“My apologies.”

“How’s the Prince?”

_ A pain in my ass _ , Ignis thinks, but blessedly doesn’t say. 

“We spent today searching the coastline,” Ignis says. “No signs of anything, as suspected. Gladiolus suggested that it would not hurt to be thorough and see if any unmapped tombs were set up here, before the records.”

“I see. Remember, his Majesty wants Noctis back in the castle as soon as possible, but it won’t hurt to give him some leeway. Just don’t be too thorough.”

“I expect we will be on our way North by afternoon at the latest,” Ignis confirms, and then grimaces. “There were some cave inlets we observed just as it was getting dark, and we felt it best to return when daemons were not likely to press the advantage.”

“Good. Keep me updated.”

  
Clarus hands up.

Ignis exhales deeply and nearly burns the risotto while trying to collect himself.

If Noctis turns this exercise into a situation where Ignis has to lie to cover for him at every turn - Ignis wasn’t going to be able to keep up. He would have to report the truth.

Unlike Gladio and the Prince, his position was not based on his birthright, but by skill alone. If his service did not suit Noctis, or his father, Ignis could be dismissed at will for any reason. 

He distracts himself by taking joy in feeding his comrades a hot meal, and leaning back in his chair. 

It truly is lovely out here. The sea air was fresh, and the light wind was refreshing.

Perhaps Noctis had the right of it. They needn’t hurry overmuch.    
  


“Wow, this place is so  _ romantic _ ,” Prompto says dreamily, looking out over the ocean. 

“And you get to enjoy it with us,” Gladio teases. Ignis raises his eyebrows at the Shield, wondering exactly what he’s playing at.

“All three of us,” Noctis piles on, which is when Prompro goes from smiling along to bright red again.”

“You’re a lucky man,” Ignis finishes off, just for the sheer joy of watching Promoto hiccup so hard he actually falls out of his chair onto the beach.

After that, the evening is calm and still, and Ignis settles himself with the warm notion that they will be on their way and back to schedule by the next afternoon.

Spoiler alert: he was wrong.

…

By morning, Noctis has it in mind that he is going to wage a full frontal assault on the Grouper. So he goes back to the shack with a boatload of additional questions about feeding habits, territory, preferred bait. He picks up some handy suggestions about finding deep pools in otherwise slightly moving water, where an ambush predator can hide.

He also picks up a shinier lure, one that will catch the moonlight as he reels, to entice the view of any sight predators lurking in the clear water. 

Ignis is already despairing, but Gladio points out that the locals have a Daemon problem and a monster problem, and the shores towards the Vannath Coast are a perfect place to hide a tomb.

Ignis wonders if he is being conspired against.

(He is not, but Gladio also prefers hunting massive crabs eating Ignis’ fine cooking to sweating through the humidity of the Hammerhead desert; and frankly, he is significantly less concerned about Ignis’ self imposed deadlines, because he loves camping and being out of the city. His incentives happen to be different than those of Noctis, but essentially produce the same result.)

After a day of fighting monsters, Ignis finds that he’s forced to step away from the group to call Clarus, who is singularly unsurprised by the fact that the four men are still in Galdin.

“Thorough isn’t bad,” he reminds Ignis. “But I expect you to put an end to this if it drags on too long.”

“Understood,” Ignis grinds out. What is he supposed to do, exactly? Handcuff the Prince and throw him into the back of the Regalia? Maybe if he could count on Gladio, but right now the Shield was just as invested in this frivolous waste off time as the Prince. 

When he returns to the group, Noctis is deeply intent on catching his fish, and Prompto is rigging up a set of additional lights to improve his shot. 

Noctis catches several Barramundi - helpful for Ignis, in terms of inspiring ideas for new meals - but no Groupers, let alone a large one.

They are out on the beach past midnight, with no luck, and even Noctis is forced to concede that they were being outfoxed by a fish.

As they tromp back towards the caravan, Prompto (so innocently that Ignis would believe him if he didn’t know better), has a suggestion:

“Hey Iggy, I was looking through some of my shots from today, and I think I saw a cave system over on the coast we should look at.”

“Oh very well,” Ignis says. “But we are not spending more than one night here. Can we agree that if Noctis does not catch the grouper tomorrow, we move on, or must I ask the King what his opinion is?”

Noctis makes a face. 

“Fine, Specs,” he says. “One more night.”

…

One more night, predictably, becomes three. However, on night number three, when Ignis has all but despaired of having any chance of not being fired, Noctis strikes gold.

“Oh shit, that’s heavy!” he shouts. Gladio barely looks up from his novel. He’s heard the same out of Noctis’ mouth several times already tonight, and it’s almost one in the morning.

Ignis hopes that even Gladio runs out of patience for shenanigans if this isn’t it.

“Look, out in the water!” Prompto shouts, and - 

Holy fuck, whatever in the water is  _ massive! _

“Noct, stop reeling!” Gladio yells. 

“Talk about backseat fishing, astrals!” Noctis yells back. “Just let me do this!”

It’s only seconds before Ignis can see the huge shape in the water switch directions, and at this rate - 

“Noct, turn the rod towards the fish! The line can’t take much more!”

“It’s going to hold!” Noctis snaps back. “I’m not letting this out of my sight!”

“Thats the spirit! You can do it!” Prompto cheers, jostling his camera slightly. “Get em!”

Noctis is pulled forward a step and Gladio actually physically hauls him back to safe ground. 

“Be careful!” the Sheild scolds, but his book has long since disappeared, and he looks just as excited as the rest of them. Hell, even Ignis can feel it, the end of the hunt is right here in front of them and he’s just as ready to see whether this mythical Grouper actually exists. 

It’s almost half an hour before Noctis has the fish reeled enough to bring it into one of the pools in the shoals. He can clearly imagine how something with this kind of strength could pull two men from a small ship with ease, and he can’t wait to get a better look at the mighty underwater hunter responsible for those fishermen’s brush with death.

It  _ is _ , as expected, massive.

Gladio lets out a low whistle. Prompto is excitedly clicking away as Gladio and Ignis help Noctis hold the fish up. It takes easily all three of them to bear the weight of the massive fish.

It's definitely a Grouper. 

“A rare beast,” Ignis says, staring down at it. “I can hardly believe such a goliath lasted out here for so long without being hunted down.”

Noctis stares thoughtfully at it. He can see where there are marks on this Grouper’s head - clearly, he’s been the target of fishermen before. 

“Hold him still, will you?” Noctis asks. “I’m just going to see if I can get some of these hooks out.

For many, it seems this was the fish that got away. Noctis removes at least five old hooks, some from the fish's massive mouth, and some from it’s body where they foul hooked the fish as the fishermen dragged their lines through the water. 

  
  


“I’m guessing this isn’t dinner, then,” Prompto says cheerfully, filming up close into the mouth of the fish, and then backing away to show the sheer size of the fish.

“No,” Noctis says. “But if this one is out there, despite the odds, who knows what might be left underwater, even in a place like this.”

He absently strokes along the fish’s back.

“Won’t have much of a choice in making this thing dinner if we don’t send it on it’s way soon,” Gladio reminds Noctis, and together the three steer the fish back out into open water. Waist deep, the three keep a light grip on the fish as it recovers its strength, not wanting the creature to become prey so soon. 

“Good luck out there,” Noctis tells the fish sternly. “Be careful.”

The fish, almost as if it understands, lunges free, and takes off into the night.

“Holy crap, that. Was. Epic!” Prompto yells, jumping up and down on the shore. “I can’t believe you caught that thing! I can’t believe it’s real!”

“Good work,” Gladio claps Noctis on the shoulder. “And that was the right thing to do, in the end.”   
  


“Quite right,” Ignis cuts in. “Now I hate to cut short our chance to celebrate, but perhaps we should be heading back to the Caravan?”

“Yeah,” Noctis says, but his eyes are fixed on the ocean, on the spot he last saw the magnificent Grouper that they had hauled in. He can’t believe that only minutes ago, it was in his hands.

In the end, none of them sleep. They head back to camp. Gladio suggests a few beers. Ignis, ever practical, decides the best way to keep an eye on things and make sure nothing gets out of hand, joins them.

Prompto pulls out his computer and starts going through his pictures and videos. 

“What an incredible moment,” he says with a sigh, looking at the picture he’d gotten of the three men hoisting the fish out of the water to show off it’s massive size.

“It surely was,” Ignis says, unable to disagree. 

They watch the sun come up over Galdin, and Ignis doesn’t even think about driving back to Hammerhead. He’s coming up with excuses for their delay, when Gladio leans against him.

“Let it go,” he says. “We’ll tell my dad we got caught up in a dungeon, and couldn’t get out until late. Turn off your phone now and he won’t catch us lying to him.”

“Quite,” Ignis laughs, looking fondly over at the Shield. “I thought you might at least pretend to assist me in keeping order on this adventure.”

“Iggy, moments like tonight don’t just happen. That was something special, and we should hold onto stuff like that, no matter what.”

Ignis doesn’t disagree with him.

The two of them end up napping together, wrapped up in each other on the beach. It is, to call back to Prompto’s earlier conversation, so romantic. 

However, it is also the last bit of the catalyst needed to truly throw a wrench in Ignis’ plans. While the Prince’s bodyguard and retainer nap, Noctis and Prompto upload the video of the giant fish to MoogTube. 

“You know, if we make this a habit, we really DO need to find you a nickname, or SOMEthing,” Prompto says. “We can’t just go around announcing that the Prince is in town or we’ll cause a riot.”

“Good thing most of the good fishing is found far away from most people,” Noctis says, and between the subtlety of the shift in his tone and the amount of sleep neither of them have had, Prompto might have been forgiven for missing that clue entirely.

He does not.

“What are you up to?” he asks his best friend, and Noctis grins back.

“You’ll see,” he says. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do,” Prompto says, immediately. “Alright, keep your secrets then, I’m gonna nap.”

“Me too.”

…

Then they meet Dino.

The reporter is a fast-talking, mostly unpleasant, sleazy weirdo with great eyeliner, a flashy sense of fashion, and a bad attitude. He finds them as they’re waking up in a daze from their morning naps, around one in the afternoon. He corners Ignis and Gladio outside the caravan, phone in hand, too excited to make much sense at first.   


He’s yelling incoherently about a fish, and a video, and Ignis immediately surmises that either Prompto or Noctis have done something foolhardy that will once again delay them.

“That catch was EPIC!” Dino tells the prince. “And look, quality content like this doesn’t just make itself. This kind of footage rakes in the views. Just look at how many people have already seen this!”

Ignis looks.

He pales.

He realizes he has not turned on his phone all day.

That’s about when Gladio’s phone rings.

“Hey dad,” Gladio says cheerfully, making eye contact with a paling Ignis. “We’re just getting out of a dungeon, sorry for not answering your call! What’s up?”

He listens for a few tense moments during which Ignis can imagine what, exactly, Clarus Amicitia has to say to his son.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gladio says with a shit eating grin stretched across his face. “We’ve been fighting daemons all night, and we’re about to head back up to Hammerhead. I don’t know anything about a fish. You think I’m that irresponsible?”

And he hangs up.

Ignis looks back at the video.

It's so obviously himself, Gladio, and the Prince, that the lie is absurd. Gladio cannot possibly expect to be able to just... deny that it's the three of them, and get away with it, can he? That would be insane. They have no excuse, no alibi, just 'nah that's not me, looks like me though!' and Ignis cannot believe that that is the story that Gladio has apparently saddled them both with for the foreseeable future.  


“At least Prom and I used a new account,” Noctis says casually, emerging from the caravan to the sound of new conversation happening outside.  


“Thats the spirit, and here’s the man of the hour!” Dino cheers. Noctis nods at him.

“What do you want?” he asks.

“Want? Nothing really. I’m a reporter! What I want is good content that keeps people engaged. And you, my fine princely friend, are engaging.”

“What are you proposing?” Noctis asks.

“You come by any footage like this again, I’ll publish it. We keep your real names out of it. We can even make a joke of it - crown city doppelgangers catching monster fish - it’s perfect!”

Ignis would love to tell Dino exactly how not perfect it is, when Prompto emerges from the caravan, camera in hand.

“Sounds like we’re gonna need a pseudonym for you after all!” He says cheerfully. “The video just hit two million views, and your dad texted me. I told him I had no idea what was going on.”

This, of course, is absurd.

“This is absurd,” Ignis says, ever the voice of reason. 

“Absurd makes money,” Dino chimed in. “Well, Prince, what do you think?”

“I’m fine with it,” Noctis says. “But you credit Prompto on everything.”

  
Prompto stammers that Noctis really doesn’t need to do that, but Dino is already agreeing, and he gives Noctis his card.

“Let me know when you have something else on your line!” he says, and vanishes.

“That’s trouble,” Ignis says.

Spoiler alert: Ignis is absolutely one hundred percent right. 

"We are NOT doing this again," Ignis adds.

Spoiler alert: about this, Ignis is absolutely one hundred percent wrong. 

...

**Author's Note:**

> Guys. GUYS. I don't know. I've gone mad from the quarantine, but here you are. I'm trying to maintain a good fish-banter ratio here, and I hope you're into it.


End file.
